


Just a Job

by AJsRandom



Series: Trope Bingo [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Corporate Espionage, Eventual Romance, F/M, Seduction, mergana - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4123512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJsRandom/pseuds/AJsRandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgana drugs Merlin to get him to spill his secrets. Fills Drunk/Drugged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Job

Morgana tapped her perfectly manicured blood-red nails on the bar top. _The mark is taking forever to arrive!_ She should have known better—in his dossier, one of his noted personality quirks was chronic tardiness. She watched a pair of his known associates glance at their watches and shake their heads, laughing. Whoever had done the homework on this one had been spot on.

A few minutes later, the upscale pub’s door opened and the mark walked in. _Oh my_. The black and white pic in the dossier didn’t do him justice! He was absolutely _striking_ —dark hair and pale skin, like hers, five o’clock shadow, and the most _amazing_ blue eyes she’d ever seen. And just below those eyes were cheekbones that could slice anything. _Wow_. Maybe she could have a little fun with this one before she cut him loose.

She checked over her outfit, making sure the low-cut cocktail dress was still in place, so to speak. She also had diamonds at her ears, neck and wrist, though they sadly weren’t hers. _Time to bait the hook_ , she thought as she stood, smoothed the dress down and began walking over to the table where her mark sat.

 _Merlin Emrys, what an odd name_. But despite all his quirks, he held some of his company’s most privileged information in his head. It was her job to wrangle that from him so _her_ company could benefit. His table was on the way to the ladies’ room, so she made a show of walking by him and allowing her hand to trail across his shoulders.

He looked up just as she’d gotten past him and could see his expression in her peripheral vision. He had _definitely_ been hooked.

She went inside the restroom and pretended to check her reflection, staying a little longer to let things simmer. When she walked out, she saw his eyes dart up again and follow her, presumably all the way back to the bar. It would only be a couple minutes before he got up and came over to her. She pretended to be surprised when he did, and engaged him in the usual small talk. He ordered another drink for her and one for himself.

At one point, she asked him if “those were his friends trying to get his attention.” When he looked away, she slipped the fast-dissolving, odorless and tasteless drug into his drink; she’d paid the bartender to look the other way. When Merlin turned back, he told her she must have been mistaken and began sipping at his drink.

By the time he reached the bottom of his glass, he was showing signs of being affected. _Time to go_. She coyly suggested that she was looking to go somewhere a little more intimate. He agreed and they got up to say farewell to his friends. They chuckled and wished him well, unsurprised. He looked mildly drunk—he had a reputation as a lightweight too. They probably thought they knew exactly what was going to happen after they got to her place. _They had no idea_.

The apartment her employer had temporarily acquired for her was nearby by design. As they exited the pub, she looped her arm through his and began walking in that direction. Five minutes later, they were at “her” door. She let them in then slammed his back against the door to close it. Then she seized his face with her hands and mashed their lips together furiously. Just as he’d caught on to the fact they were kissing, she pulled away and took his hand. “Come in,” she said saucily.

She turned and took in the décor for the first time. Furniture was black and white with splashes of bold color—hi-contrast but somehow feminine. Merlin took it in as well, whistling at the sheer amount of money that had gone into the décor. “Nice place.”

Morgana smiled. “Would you like an aperitif or do you want to . . . dive right in?” She licked her lips in a manner that had most men drooling in seconds. Merlin was no exception.

“Umm . . .” his eyes darted over to the sofa. He nodded in that direction so she pulled him to it and pushed him to sit on it.

“You look a little tense—would you like a quick massage first?” she asked.

“Oh yes.” He took off his jacket.

She shook her head at him and started attacking the buttons on his shirt. As she pushed it off his shoulders and down his arms, she marveled at his physique. _He was a lot more built than he looked_. It looked like he and the gym were close friends. She backed up and invited him to lay face down. Once he was in place, she climbed over him to sit on and straddle his rear. _Tight buns_. Next she massaged his shoulders, neck, and upper arms before moving down his back. She felt him gradually relax. “Don’t fall asleep on me now,” she teased.

He turned his head to the side. “No danger of that.” The next moment, he rolled under her so now she was sitting on a more interesting part of his body.

“Mmm,” she said, and leaned forward to kiss him gently. But he threaded his hands into her hair and held her head to his. He licked at her lips so she’d open them, and she obliged. He deepened the kiss further and ran a hand down to her lower back.

This was the beginning of the most intense makeout session she’d experienced in her career as a professional seductress. _This_ skill of his was _definitely_ not in his dossier. His hands and lips were everywhere, but he was so kind and generous, worrying more about how _she_ was feeling. She found herself strangely reluctant to pursue the line of questioning she needed to put to him.

When she finally slipped questions in beside sighs, caresses and mind-altering kisses, he proved to be remarkably resistant. He’d answer with questions or lines she could find on his company’s website. Well, they’d told her the drug was ninety-nine percent effective—he was just the other one percent. Bad news for her employers, but good for her conscience. _What a relief_.

The drug _was_ one-hundred percent effective at putting its consumers to sleep. After a particularly passionate kiss that took both their breaths away, she gently lowered him to the sofa. She snatched the throw that lay there and draped it gently over him. She stroked his hair for a moment before retrieving a pen and paper from her clutch—she scrawled something on it then laid it atop his shirt she’d placed on the coffee table. Then she got up and headed for the door, dimming the lights with the switch there.

Just before she walked out, she turned, blew him a kiss and said, “Goodbye Merlin.” He slept peacefully as she closed the door and walked away, a shred of hope in her heart.


End file.
